Rebellion Starts Tonight
by MidnightEssense
Summary: In the times of war, friends become foe, and the most unlikely of enemies just might become the most loyal friend.


**This is my first Warriors story so comments and advice are welcome. Flames are awesome too. At least they have the decency to review!**

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**Forever More: **

**Rebellion Starts Tonight**

**Summary: In the times of war, friends become foe, and the most unlikely of enemies just might become the most loyal friend.**

**Intro: The clans are no more, they're all purebred clan cats, led by the High King Stormstar. All kittypets, rogues, and loners have become slaves, forced to do the clan cat's bidding. Any 'laziness' results in torture, possibly death. Any rebellion from within the clan cats are exterminated immediately or forced into submission. She lives the perfect life, compared to most others, ordering and receiving without a moment's hesitation. Still...all that might change when the rebellion starts tonight.**

**Prologue: High King**

Frostpaw flicked her tail leisurely as she padded into the leader's den. The darkness within the den easily hid her pelt, which was completely contrary to her name. She waved the lichen aside with her white tail. A welcoming purr came from deeper in the cave, commanding, masculine, and deep.

"Greetings, Frostpaw. I assume you tracked him as ordered?" The voice pretended to ponder this matter. Although it was just a joke, the she cat couldn't help but feel insulted. She twitched her white ears irritably as she answered,

"Since when have I ever failed?" There was a short pause, the only sound was the other cat's deep, rumbling chuckle. Then, the voice came as a purr again and a golden paw extended, beckoning her to come forward. This gesture irritated her slightly. She didn't need his permission to sit. And who was he to tell her that she couldn't do her job? She'd bet a moon of prey that he couldn't do any better. Still, the black-furred she cat obliged and seated herself directly in front of the massive golden tom, curling her tail daintily over her paws, then relayed her information. She was purring inwardly as she could feel the intense curiosity radiating from him. Then, she decided not to delay this any longer.

"He's been meeting her," she growled softly. Her heart tugged downwards as the golden tom nodded, then unsheathed his claws.

"Bring him to me, it's time he learned to follow orders," he commanded. Frostpaw's ebony pelt prickled uneasily as guilt filled her when she realized his death would be her fault but bowed her head submissively before racing out to find Stonepaw.

It was dark and musty in the slave corner, dirt and mud nearly occupying every inch of it. There were ragged, scraggly lumps of fur littered across most of the land. The rise and fall of their chests were the only thing that told others they were alive. Another sturdy, muscular shape stood over all of them, their eyes glinting as they watched their assigned slaves. Close to the edge of the pit was a small, unmoving mound of fur, but shining, bright amber orbs glowed from it. The mottled russet colored tom whimpered slightly and cringed as a huge, pale gray tom, Iceflurry, loomed over his head, his dark blue eyes focused on him. He shoved his head into his paws and tried to fall asleep. No sleep came. Instead, his thoughts veered to thoughts of his current life. Iceflurry was the guard that the slaves despised most. Being the brother of High King Stormstar, he took his guard duty seriously, never taking his dead stare off the cat he was assigned to watch. The fact that his piercing eyes were so unnerving didn't help either. The russet tom shivered slightly under his gaze and tried to fall asleep once more. This time, Mother Nature decided to be merciful and the relaxed breathing of the other slaves around him lulled him to sleep.

From a cozier, warmer den, screeches could be heard. The tabby she cat's blue eyes flashed murderously as she glared at her dirty, burr-matted slave. Her claws tensed around her fresh bedding as she fought to control her rising temper.

"I said vole!" She snarled. He, her slave, Cripple, cringed under her glare. Her claws slashed his back, reopening several raw cuts. Then, she ordered him to roll over on his back. Cripple winced as the new cuts rubbed against the ground, but obeyed. Suddenly, the tabby's claw was placed in his chest. It sunk itself deep and made a long gash as she drew it across his chest and underbelly. Cripple screamed wildly as pain seared into him. His panted weakly as his paws flailed around, groping thin air. Black dots swarmed his vision as blood dribbled into his eyes. He felt as if his body was torn in two, and it nearly was, literally.

"Mistpaw, we still need him alive!" Hissed a deep, male voice. Mistpaw, the tabby, sighed resignedly but shooed Cripple off, then returning to dozing in her soft nest. Cripple struggled to stand and mustered enough energy to shoot her a glare of pure malice, then snarled in a croaking mew,

"I want to see you dead." The snobby tabby, now asleep, merely snored and shifted into a more comfortable position. With one last parting hiss, Cripple heaved himself up and limped out of the den. Two guards growled at him and prodded him with a paw, making him stumble. They laughed at his pain. Cripple snarled angrily and whipped his tail around before stalking off and returning to the slave den, where he was greeted by his siblings, Dirt and Dung. The two were sisters and masters in soothing their younger, hotheaded brother. Dirt blinked sympathetically and shifted her dark-brown-and-brown-speckled body to make room for him.

"Tough day?" Cripple sighed in an exaggerated manner as he flopped down gratefully in his nest. Old blood stuck his fur in clumps, and the new scarlet liquid trickled down his pale brown sides. His underbelly was already sticky and a light shade of red. His sides heaved and his breathing was labored.

"It makes Iceflurry's torture sessions seem like nothing," he growled, then lowered his voice to a whisper.

"How's Seastar doing? And has Darkblaze kitted yet? We need more warriors to help!" Dung shoved her golden-brown tail tip into his mouth as in his irrational panic rose an octave, making the guards turn to stare at the ruckus.

"Nothing but a mad cat," she told them and they turned away. Cripple scowled and shot her an furious glare but said nothing more. He knew better than to get caught when they were so plentiful...

"Swiftpad," Seastar croaked weakly. The dark ginger tabby flicked her ears but didn't turn around. Her eyes were fixated on the moon.

"Yes?" The medicine cat inquired. Seastar's eyes flitted to and fro, as if expecting somecat to enter her den that moment. One did. It was the messenger, Auromn. Auromn wasn't exactly a rebellion cat. In fact, he wasn't a cat. He was a large peregrine falcon. Sleek were his speckled brown and black and white feathers. His neck curved elegantly like a dove's. Each claw was lined with a pearly white set of talons. His hook beak was always poised dangerously, anticipating action. Shining, violet-black eyes turned their fierce stare on the blue-gray leader.

"Kreeeeaaaghhh! Methinks they'll attack us soon! I cannae stay long these dais, more aechers throwin' sticks an' stones at mahself," he squawked, preening his wings with that dangerous golden beak of his. Seastar nodded her head in understanding. She knew he had a family to tend to and that it was already a big play on his part that they had all this important information. But lots of it was also from...there was a slight tremor where Seastar stood. A trio of little furry, squirrel-like animals with dark brown fur. Their little pink noses twitched as the smallest of them greeted,

"Hiya! Callin' anoda meetin' widout mehs?" It's paws worked themselves rapidly around its muzzle, clearing away little crumbs still stuck to its rough coat. Seastar chuckled softly, a harsh rasping sound. They were Ditto, Copy, and Cat, a band of groundhogs who's hobby was to collect information. They had stolen the outlines of the structure of the opposing side and the statistics of every warrior there, giving them a huge boost. Seastar had already planned out an attack strategy, but she needed Stormstar to act first...a paw waved itself in front of her face.

"Ehlo? Oh you scared me there, bud, you zoned out for a moment!" The owner of the voice was a dark-furred groundhog male with a distinctive patch of white across his face, Ditto. Copy began giggling at the flustered expression on Seastar's face, but a glare from Cat silenced the young groundhog. Seastar's dark blue eyes stared intently at Cat, then switched her icy stare from her to Ditto, who shrunk just slightly at the fierceness in them. She was a born fighter, he knew that. She came from a great line of descendants, all legendary warriors. He was pretty sure she was searching for a weak spot or waiting for him to drop his guard so that she could pounce on him, but then she asked,

"So did you get it?" Her eyes continued their search. She flicked her tail tip eagerly from side to side. Even Swiftpad seemed interested now, as her ears pricked in anticipation. This was what they needed to attack. Ditto nodded and gestured to Copy, who pulled out a large package wrapped in brown bark from one of the five packs on her back.


End file.
